


Longing and Life Building

by zemenipearls (ayaanle)



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, novyi zem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayaanle/pseuds/zemenipearls
Summary: Jesper is depressed and deeply homesick, Wylan doesn't really know what's going on. Things come to a head.Hurt/Comfort fic for 2019 grishaverse secret Santa, for someone who didn't like it.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	Longing and Life Building

Jesper sat in the barbershop, looking in the mirror as the old Zemeni man trimmed the sides into a low fade. The clippers buzzed in his ears and he caught up on the latest gossip from his home country. Politics, powerful families, crops, the latest fashion trends. Rain drizzled down relentlessly from the sky, and the windows were decorated with Kerch yule colors. 

The shop had large windows looking out to the Zemeni quarter of Ketterdam - a 45 minute walk from Geldstraat but he made the trek every other week for the food, haircuts, shopping, and community. The barber smelled like jurda cigarettes and had orange stained teeth that Jesper found charming. 

"Alright young blood," he said, brushing off Jesper's shoulders. "How are things going with that boy of yours?"

"Not bad Mr. Dauid, handling his father's estate. A lot of papers to sort through and trails to follow. But we're having a party tonight. Thanks for keeping me clean."

Jesper handed the man a generous tip. "Looks as good as always." He had been getting his hair done by Mr. Dauid for years - since he was a 15 year old at Ketterdam University, unable to pay for a simple trim and shape up. Jesper was glad to help now. 

"Think you can help me with papers sometime? The Kerch are cracking down on us," the man wrinkled his nose. "I want to get my stuff in order."

Jesper brimmed with pride. He no longer had gambling debts and now others wanted his advice on money and paper logistics. Old dreams of being a lawyer were dead, but he still knew how to read contracts. "Of course. It's on me."

He grabbed street food from a nearby stall and ate it on the way back to the Van Eck mansion, which was being unceremoniously renamed to the Hendriks mansion. Jesper balanced a bag of clothes he bought in the other hand, glad that the food was warming him up.

It was a strange experience from Jesper. He fit right in as he strolled through the Zemeni quarter. But the closer he got to the row of Kerch merchant houses, the less he looked like he belonged. His easy stride became clipped, and he straightened and double checked the revolver under his jacket. 

The houses along the canal were breathtaking. Narrow and several stories tall, they leaned forward ever so slightly so furniture could be hauled up on the pulley systems on each rooftop. There were elegant lamp posts every twenty meters, and personal boats for transportation tied in the canals. 

Ketterdam had a perpetual gray cast - even when the sun came out, Jesper felt like everything was desaturated. Everything was gray. Or black. The stones, the buildings, the sky, the water. Not the vibrant hues of where he grew up. So his clothes made up for it. Jurda orange and royal purple, bright blue like the sky over the Savannah, and green as the crops. 

The cold bit at Jesper in the winter months. It made his skin dry, and had to bathe in shea butter to stop it. He was uncomfortable at night and needed the fire roaring, making it difficult for Wylan to be under the covers with him. And the summers were never warm enough. They suggested heat rather than truly bathing him in sunlight.

Wylan was playing with Alys's baby in the family room when Jesper got back. A suspiciously brown baby that Bajan was suspiciously close to, not that it was any of Jesper's business. 

"Hi!" Wylan said when he noticed Jesper come in. Jesper still couldn't believe someone in the shit hole of a city was always happy to see him. He felt tolerated at the Slat. But here? He had a place. Unconditionally. That was why he liked the Zemeni quarter too. But here he had someone as well. 

Wylan placed little Maya onto her baby chair and walked over to Jesper. They shared a small kiss that still made Jesper's heart pitter patter in his chest. 

"You look good," Wylan said, reaching a hand up to brush the side of Jesper's hair. "Ready for tonight?"

"I think so," Jesper said. It was a Hendriks solstice party, at Marya's insistence. Even Kaz and Inej were coming. Nina was off doing whatever she was doing in Ravka, and Kuwei had traveled with her to start training in Os Alta. 

Jesper wondered what it would be like to train his own Durast skills, but he couldn't imagine being in Ravka. Couldn't imagine donning a purple kefta (although he would look great in it), and fighting for a country that occupied his own, the Southern Colonies. 

He remembered there were schools in the West of Novyi Zem. But he was probably too old. Too mediocre to get better now.

They decorated the house, Bajan helping Alys stitch some things together while Maya babbled away, and Jesper made the gold and silver bells extra sparkly thanks to his gift as a zowa. 

"What are you wearing tonight?" Wylan asked. "I wanna make sure we match." He looked at Jesper's bright clothes. "As best as we can."

"I got a new outfit while I was out shopping today."

Wylan peered at the bag. "Did you get a new suit?"

"No, I'm trying something different." He reached in and pulled out sky-blue Zemeni style formalwear. A long shirt fitted down to his mid calf with silver geometric designs lovingly stitched to the shoulders and cuffs. The pants were a matching blue. 

Wylan reached and touched the fabric. "That's gorgeous."

"Its a winter color in Novyi Zem," Jesper explained. "The crops have retreated but the sky is an unyielding blue. I thought it would be nice. I can wear something else if you don't like it."

"No! It'll look amazing. I think it's really nice."

That made him grin and he gave Wylan another kiss on the cheek. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"I can't wait to destroy my father's legacy."

"Hopefully you'll enjoy it more than I did," Jesper joked. He wondered if Colm truly forgave him for what he did. The farm was a living and breathing memory of his mother. Hell, she was even buried there. "Yours was more of a dick."

"Its true." Wylan sighed. "This house is so big. I'm still finding new stuff."

"You know you can let some of the staff go," he suggested. "We can do our own laundry and cooking. Make use of it."

"I know. I just feel bad for them. They would have to find new jobs and that seems like a hassle."

Jesper wanted to point out that they both had done it before just fine, but it was up to Wylan. It was where Wylan had his memories, good and bad, where Wylan had grown up, where Wylan owned it all. Jesper was still adjusting to it all.

He shook his head, as if to rid himself of the dark thoughts that were lurking. 

The servants transformed the business-like entertainment room of Van Eck's time into a dazzling and ostentatious winter display, suited to host everyone from the Dregs to an old classmate of Jesper's he wanted to brag to.

Wylan was dashing with his loose curls strewn about and eyes bright. He wore a Kerch suit with it's long tails, its golden hardware matching the stitching in Jesper's outfit and the golden hoops in his ears.

Inej was the first to arrive. She wore her own suit, her hair in its typical braid. Jesper hugged her tight. For some reason, seeing Inej in front of him made him relieved. And the fact Kaz wasn't there with her also made him breathe easier. 

_There was a time I would be craning my head for Kaz,_ he thought. Not anymore. Wylan was nice, and kind, and funny. He didn't put Jesper down once. And he liked that. Things were a little more boring, but it was a nice change. And he felt better than he had in months.

Friends of Alys mingled with old friends of Marya. Rotty and Specht laughed in their loud salty voices and rubbed elbows with young merchants of Ketterdam. The champagne was flowing and more than a few of the wealthy would lose a few kruge. Wylan was enthusiastically talking to a stoic Kaz while Jesper circled the room. 

Bajan, Inej, and a few other Suli were there. But Jesper didn't see any Zemenis. How did that happen? When did he become so removed?

An ache started in his chest and reached into his throat. Jesper tried to laugh it away through the party but it refused to loosen up. 

_I'm happy_ , he told himself. _Just be happy. You live in a beautiful house with your beautiful boyfriend throwing a beautiful party_. Everything was perfect. 

The two former wives of Van Eck not only lived together but they seemed to be getting along. Marya enjoyed the birds, just like Wylan did. Even helped her with little Maya. Jesper paid off his debts and practiced his zowa powers in privacy. He didn't have to clean, cook, or worry about money. 

_Maybe because it isn't enough,_ he thought. He excused himself and went to one of the narrow, spiral staircases that lead to the next floor. 

Once alone, the lump in his throat grew. The party noises downstairs were so joyful. Instead of going back down, Jesper changed into pyjamas. He stoked the flames in the fireplace as high as they could go, before curling under comforters and falling asleep.

When he woke up, the room was cold and so was the space beside him. Jesper debated if he even wanted to get out. Everything was melancholy, and even grayer. _Is the sun even going to make an attempt?_ He wondered. He pulled the blanket up to his chin.

Jesper barely noticed the hours passing by. He dreamed of open savannahs and brilliant orange crops. The pretty acacia trees with their wide flat tops. He heard Maya crying at one point and pulled the cover over his head. What had his mother done when he was crying?

The bed sank under a familiar weight, and a hand reached into his blanket cocoon. 

"What are you doing?" Wylan asked.

"Trying to remember the words to a lullaby," Jesper mumbled. 

"Which one?" Wylan asked. "Maybe I know it."

"One my mom sang to me." Jesper thought a little more. "Thula baba. That's what it was called. It's very pretty."

"You should sing it sometime." Wylan lifted the comforters up and slid into the nest with Jesper until they were face to face. Wylan was devastatingly beautiful to him - the cupid's bow of his lips and sharp cheekbones with intelligent eyes. Almost too much, this close. 

"Hi," Jesper said. He knew Wylan couldn't be comfortable in all that heat. But Wylan still held his hand and clutched it tight between their chests.

"You bailed last night. You didn't even speak to Kaz before heading to bed. You're normally the last one to sleep."

"Its fine, maybe I just needed some me time. After all, I'm pretty great." It felt wrong to try and lie in such close quarters with someone. 

"You are. But I want some of this time with you too. You gonna come out?"

"Yeah," he lied again. "Just give me a bit."

Wylan stayed for awhile, until excusing himself to see his mom. They touched their foreheads together briefly before he slipped out from the covers and the room. It took Jesper another hour before he finally got up splashed water on his face, and plastered on a smile. 

The former Van Ecks were sitting around a table drinking tea. Jesper kissed Marya on the cheek, then Alys, then Maya, and then Wylan, before giving his beau an extra tight squeeze. "Is there still hot water on the stove?"

"Yes, I'll ring for it -"

"No, no. I want to get it myself be right back." He picked up Wylan's hand and brushed his lips over his knuckles. The worried crease between Wylan's eyebrows relaxed, and Marya smiled at him. 

Jesper did feel better after wandering into the kitchen and pouring the hot water over crushed mint leaves. A Kerch specialty, it was one of the things he enjoyed about this country. Aromatic mint leaves and a bit of honey. 

One of the staff flagged him down as he was about to go back to the kitchen.

"Mr. Fahey! You have a couple letters."

Jesper took them and stuffed them in his vest. "Thanks." He could check them out later. Instead he drank tea and chat with his Kerch family. It fought the uneasiness a bit. Wylan held his hand and glanced curiously, but Jesper fended it off with laughs, jokes, and outrageous compliments. 

Wylan waited until the women left before turning to Jesper again. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. A lot of energy though. I might need to take a walk or something to get it out."

Wylan looked skeptical. "I can go with you."

"That's okay."

Jesper hated the hurt he saw flash in Wylan's eyes. But still he left the mansion and made his way back to the Zemeni quarter. He didn't need anything. He just got his hair done. But if tugged at him. And so he went, and when the clothes became brighter and he recognized his home language on signs, a weight lifted. 

There was a small mom and pop cafe that he stepped into. It smelled like good food, and he didn't stand out. Maybe his light eyes betrayed his half Kaelish roots. But no one cared, and he blended in seamlessly. He embraced how he stood out, it was his armor.

Jesper spent hours there. He met the owners and asked about their recipes, drank tea, and talked about his hometown, Ol'Umoyana. Also known as Shriftport. Finally he opened the letter, written in Colm's tidy handwriting.

_Dear Jesper,_

_Thank you for the gift. I do admit that the salted chocolate in Kerch is wonderful. I hope you're still doing well by the time this letter arrives. Are you eating enough? You were so skinny when I saw you. I worry about you._

_Jammo was asking about you. You remember him? He was practically your uncle growing up. I didn't give him the full details but I did say you were doing well for yourself there. Which is true._

_This is going to be a spectacular year for jurda I can tell. Unprecedented. I've been approached by no less than five buyers trying to capitalize on it. But we won't ever sell this farm. I guess if I die I'll have no say, but how could we sell the land your ma lives on?_

_You should visit. Bring Wylan too. You need some sun, I haven't seen you that pale since you became sick when you were thirteen from that flu. I love you. Always remember that._

_Da_

When Jesper finally got up to leave, Wylan was sitting outside on a bench, bundled up against the dreary weather. His cheeks were pink and his mouth set in a deep frown.

"What are you doing here?" Jesper asked.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Wylan shot back.

"Just getting some food."

Wylan looked incredulous. "No. No more lying. I was going to let it go but something is wrong. Can you please talk to me?"

"I don't want to talk about it here," Jesper said. People looked at them curiously. Much like when he was on Geldstraat, here Wylan was the one who didn't fit in. 

The walk back was torturous. "You're getting better at following people," Jesper tried joking. 

"Easier than the barrel," Wylan grumbled. But he did smile.

******

"Talk," Wylan said crossing his arms.

"There's nothing to really talk about. I'm just, you know. Checking out the city."

"Why do you keep going to the Zemeni quarter then?"

"An allowance, and monitoring my going ons? May as well move back home." 

It was supposed to be a deflection but a sudden pain struck his chest, and his eyes began to sting. Home. The skies, the farm, the bustling port city. What was home? Some poet said they found home in a person, but what if that person lived in a really shitty country?

Wylan immediately softened. "What? Is that what this is about?"

"I guess. Wy, I love you so much. But I don't love this." He gestured vaguely at the surroundings. "These people. This street. Something is missing, and now that I don't have the zowa sickness distracting me…" he trailed off. "I don't want you to think you're not enough."

Wylan reached a hand over. "Its okay, Jes. I got you. You miss Novyi Zem?"

The lump returned to Jesper's throat. He nodded. "It hurts so much right now," his voice cracked. "I don't see myself in these faces." Now that he named the loneliness inside, it stretched out and tried to occupy his entire being. "I fit in here. I do. But only if I'm how they want me to be."

"Who's they?" Wylan asked softly. The crease was back between his eyebrows but his blue eyes were soft and fixed completely on Jesper. 

"All of Ketterdam it seems. The other merchants. Barrel bosses. The University." He paused. "Kaz. The only place I feel normal is in the Zemeni quarter. That's why I go."

Wylan sat back, but reached out to Jesper. Their hands entwined, Jesper felt the buzzing in his head die down a little. The hardest part was over. Speaking his anxieties out loud. 

"I love you because of who you are Jes. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner. You're beautiful and funny and being Zemeni is just part of you." He kissed Jesper's hand. "What is the farm like?"

"The house is by a cliff - crags my Da calls them. It overlooks a huge farm. Almost 1200 acres. The jurda grow on half of it - rolling hills." He closed his eyes, tears prickling at the edges. "The other half is for various crops during the seasons. Theres a pompom tree to the southeast." Where his mother was buried. Half of what made him, in the soft earth.

Wylan pulled him into a hug. He asked about Jesper's favorite foods, about the friends he grew up with. Before he was lost in the fog of addiction, the wonderful life he had. 

Jesper fell asleep with Wylan's arms around him and dreamed of the Fog Ponies that stampeded across the Zemeni frontier.

In the morning, Jesper felt hungover on emotion. Wylan's side of the bed was cold. _Damnit. Slept until noon again,_ he thought to himself. But he would turn around. Get out of his funk. 

Downstairs, he heard voices. "Kunye, kubili, kuthathu, kune, kuhlanu, isithupha, isikhombisa, isishiyagalombili, isishiyagalolunye, ishumi." 

Jesper couldn't believe his ears. Zemeni? He tiptoed to the study where he saw a Zemeni woman sitting next to Wylan at a table. They were practicing counting on their hands, over and over again. She gently corrected his pronunciation and they began again, Wylan deep in concentration.

Wylan finally looked up, and waved Jesper in. "Hey! Perfect timing."

"What's this?" Jesper asked, not entirely sure this wasn't a hallucination. 

"So I was thinking, you speak Kerch all the time. I should try to learn some Zemeni. It's good for me. Also," Wylan's entire face lit up. "We're gonna go to Novyi Zem. Everyone here is fine. They survive without us for a couple months right?"

"Wait. What?" Jesper couldn't believe what he was hearing. But Wylan's energy was infectious. He started smiling too. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean. Its been years since you went back and we have a ton of money."

"We do have a lot of money. So much money."

"Why not visit your father?"

Jesper had no words. It was exactly what he needed and this incredible person in front of him was willing to drop everything to give it. Until now Jesper realized he didn't trust that Wylan would really embrace that part of him. But he did. And it was such a relief. 

"I was thinking, with this mountain of money we have," Wylan continued, "Why don't we get a new place? Marya will be fine here. You're right, we don't need all these servants and stuff. I heard there are some flats for sale near the Zemeni district. A couple blocks away."

"Really?"

Wylan shrugged. "You know. It would be fun to leave the house to my sister, who isn't even related to my dad." Then Wylan made air quotes with his hand. "Allegedly."

Jesper leaned down and swept Wylan into a crushing hug. All the bad feelings had just been homesickness. Now it was overwhelming relief and love for Wylan, this newish life they could build together. Living in Ketterdam in the Zemeni quarter, walking to visit Marya and taking trips to Novyi Zem for Colm. 

"Thank you," he whispered. 

"Of course."

Over the next week they planned a trip. Jesper's spirits lifted more and more as Wylan bought books on Zemeni culture and hired a new cook, and looked at new flats. Together. They were building a life _together_ and Wylan wanted that with him.

The realtor let them explore the flat. It overlooked a bakery, right on the cusp where the Zemeni district met the port. 

They sat together on the bare wooden floors, pointing out where they could hang decorations and argued about what color scheme the place should be. Jesper watched the sunlight filter in, leaning back on his elbows. 

"You look happy," Wylan said. He crawled over to Jesper and cupped his face, their lips hovering over each other. Jesper sealed the distance between them, brushing his lips gently before pulling Wylan into a deep kiss. 

Jesper laid back on the floor so Wylan could put a leg on either side of him, the two of them smiling as they tasted and explored each other, christening the flat with their love. 

There were footsteps on the stairs and they quickly moved their hands to themselves and sat up.

"How do you like it?" She asked.

"We'll take it," Wylan said. "Think we can have like… another half hour?"

Jesper laughed. He loved the flat. He loved Wylan, with everything.


End file.
